The Count was smiling. He could feel it clearly. He could feel the muscles in his face

not mine

stretch, his lips forming a smile. And he hated it. He hated all this, it made him want to throw up. It shouldn't be like this. The Count shouldn't be able to feel happy, fulfilled.

There should be nothing good for him in this world.

The Count had only spread misery and hatred. He had no right. Of course, Jonathan was aware that this had taken place long before his enemy became Count Dracula. Before he acquired immortality on the island, even.

Maybe Dracula was just a name he had given himself, even.

Maybe the man through whom he was witnessing this wasn't really Count Dracula. Not yet. But Jonathan didn't care. It couldn't make a difference. If such a difference could be said to exist, despite the details.

He wanted the Count to die for what he had done to his family.

But what he needed was to see him suffer. If he had died in that field, one stupid young soldier among many, hundreds, thousands, then it would have done no good. He wasn't talking about physical pain, after all.

The Count had been empty. His death would have been... easy.

But now he was happy. He was hopeful. If that wasn't enough, he had brought along many men from the army, who trusted him enough to leave it all behind. They were like family, you could say.

And it would all burn and come crashing down on his head. He couldn't wait. He needed to see it with his own eyes. And he would. He would do it because he already knew how it would end, because it couldn't end any other way. Jonathan had died on the Island and then been reborn into something else. The Count would die too.

Betrayed.

Everything changed again. Suddenly.

He was going too fast and there was nothing he could hold on to for direction. That is, right now he had no idea how much time had passed since the Count and the others arrived on the Island. How close he was to the moment when everything would inevitably come crashing down.

Jonathan had no idea, but at least now he had a better sense of himself. It should come as no surprise that hatred had helped him find himself in this turmoil.

It was the only thing that had kept him going for months now.

He was still contemplating everything through the Count's eyes. However, at least he could think and feel on his own. Instead of... Getting confused. Getting lost. That was what mattered.

The Count climbed up to a watchtower, the highest point on the island. Well. The highest point built by man, the mountains in the background looked easily twice as big. In any case, climbing to the highest point to observe his island, his men, and feel better than anyone else. It sounded very much like the Count.

Surely he had made it a routine. What a bastard. If only he would get his comeuppance soon.

Yes. And maybe it will be very soon, indeed.

The Count looked down, allowing him to see that his feet were not just on the edge, but even half of them were sticking out of the edge. There was only air and a good drop below them.

Instead of stepping away from the edge, the Count rocked back on his heels, forward, backward, several times. But that was no good.. Jonathan wanted him to get what he deserved and was beginning to think he had been wrong about this, that he would die and be reborn undead by simply jumping off.

"Hey. What are you doing? You're not thinking of jumping."

Fortunately, a voice startled the Count and made him pull back from the edge.

Instead of the opposite. Which could easily have happened. Okay, fine. Things could still go in his favor. It could all end as he wished. No, it had to. It just had to.

"No." The Count denied it immediately. Too quickly, he would say.

How Jonathan hated feeling almost as if it was his voice coming out of his throat. Feeling everything the Count felt, even the little things, a slight sour aftertaste in his throat, for example. How he hated it.

But it was worth it. If it all ended as he believed it would, it was worth it.

How else was he to discover the secret of the island? He couldn't have died in old age. The Count had the appearance of a middle aged man, after all. That must have been when time had stood still for him.

Time stopped for me when I smelled the ashes. Not when Leonard shot me, not when I fell. When those ashes...

"I'm glad," that man said. It was the same man the Count had talked to, who knows how many nights ago, now that he noticed. His confidant. "Because, I'll be honest, more than once I thought all this was crazy. But it's all going smoothly. There's no reason for you to jump."

"I told you. I'm not going to jump," the Count repeated. Without turning around to look him in the eye. "But...."

"What's the matter? You can always count on me.

He'd said something like that that night, too.

This is your Leonard, isn't it?

I hope he's the one who sticks the knife in your heart. I hope it's him.

"You've never felt it? When you're up high, the urge to jump, but not because you want to die. Just a stupid impulse. Like out of curiosity as to what would happen. Even though it's more than obvious. No... I'm not explaining myself well."

Definitely.

Jonathan didn't know what this crazy guy was talking about, but he didn't like it. It supported the idea that he was going to die jumping from the high ground. Not reaping what he had sown. Not paying for being a fucking monster.

"I can't say I've ever felt that way. Listen, Adam..."

Adam.

Adam.

He said Adam, didn't he? So that's the real name of that fucking bastard. Such a common name for evil incarnate.

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Jonathan wasn't in his body. He was far away, both in time and space, and he had no control over the Count's body. He could only be a silent spectator. It was as if he were continually looking at the world through a mirror. Alone on the other side, nothing could reach him and he couldn't reach anything.

Yet...

Jonathan would swear he felt his teeth clenching, chattering in pure rage. Even this far, this far away, his hatred was alive, it was the only thing concrete, the only thing he could cling to. Like a lifeline.

"You're tired. That's all. It's normal for you to think strange things."

"That may be so. Yes," replied the Count... No, Adam, he decided. He shouldn't give him importance by referring to him by his title. He had thought it appropriate to refer to him as Count, only, as if he were no more than that, because he wasn't human. But better Adam, just Adam. "But sometimes I feel as if this island is calling me. Calling me down."

Gods, he wanted to throw up.

It couldn't be just that, could it? It couldn't end in such a stupid way. Jonathan's stay on the island hadn't been long, admittedly, but he'd never felt such an urge. Adam had probably always been a bit touched in the head, that was all.

Even if he died for the first time that way....

There would be every hope that he would get his satisfaction. I mean, sooner or later, this community he'd built would have to be built.

There was still hope that he would get his satisfaction. Sooner or later, this community Adam had built had to come down. Yes or yes. He had to learn the meaning of betrayal.

One way or another, Jonathan would get to see what he wanted.

Sooner or later.

If Jonathan had a body, he might be biting his nails from sheer nervousness. He believed that what he was saying made sense, he had no doubt about it. But there was no way he could rest easy until he saw it with his own eyes. He had to see it to believe it.

The conversation ended there.

And what followed was something that worked in his favor. Jonathan had no idea why, but two men were fighting on the shore of the beach. Hand to hand, no weapons, maybe not even trying to kill each other. But they were fighting. Cracks were starting to appear.

Adam ran towards them immediately. Of course he wasn't going to look away. He needed to keep control.

Adam stepped between them and separated them, pushing them back with an ease that had more to do with his position than his skills, he was sure.

Still, the will to fight of those two hadn't died.

Like wild animals, they lunged forward, baring their teeth, the only thing stopping them were Adam's hands. And the authority he held among them. Though only because they'd agreed to give it to him in the first place. For reasons Jonathan didn't understand. Nor did he care to understand.

"What the hell is wrong with you people? We left our countries behind to also leave hatred and all that nonsense. To be free. We are... We're family! Family! Calm down right now. And tell me what was going on."

Adam managed to calm them down, at least for the moment. Too bad. And then they launched into an explanation, or so Jonathan had to assume. Suddenly he could see their mouths moving, but not hear shit. Nothing at all, not even incomprehensible noise.

He didn't understand, but he didn't care. He didn't need to know the reasons why those two had started fighting.

Jonathan didn't need to know why everything Adam had tried to build would come crashing down on his head. The point was that it was happening. That it would happen. And that it had happened.

Now he was one hundred percent sure.

Now things could only end one way. It crossed his mind that he might not hear anything, however, because Adam couldn't remember it. Simply because these were his memories and he couldn't remember.

But that was stupid.

Adam had lived for two thousand years, or so it was said. Jonathan was witnessing the beginning of those two thousand years as Undead, and yet he had heard several complete conversations. Coherent, word for word. He couldn't have remembered all of it.

Maybe he hadn't. Maybe it wasn't what had actually been said then but a vague approximation based on his impression of the moment.

And there was nothing but silence, now, because he didn't even want to think about this. The beginning of the end.

Because it still hurts him deep down.

Yes, it would be impossible to forget something like this, the blade of betrayal. Even after two thousand years, his hatred and pain must still be alive, with no one to direct them towards. Except for himself.

He liked his conclusion.

If he had a body, Jonathan would be grinning from ear to ear.

——

When he started shaking, Elizabeth naturally panicked. Naturally.

But immediately he fell to the ground and she shit herself, it all depended on him, after all. She approached Jonathan. Bend down to check if she was still breathing....

He was supposed to be immortal. Just as he was the only one who could kill the Count, the Count was the only one who could kill him. Yes.

But this whole situation was so strange that well, who knew what could happen. She was so tired and in shock that she expected anything. Even that the creature, apparently dead, would appear burrowing its way through the walls. Eh, best not to tempt fate.

Elizabeth struggled to find it, her hand was already shaking, but yes. He was alive. For the moment.

She sighed and sat down next to him, waiting for Jonathan to wake up. There was little else she could do.

"What an idiot." She crossed her legs. "I hope at least all this shit is worth it."

——

Finally, what Jonathan had so longed for happened.

But, of course, there always had to be a catch. Something that left him with a bad taste in his mouth. And it just happened too fast. A flurry of violent flashes. That was it.

He saw...

Torch fire, lighting up the night.

He saw sunken"eyed ghosts.

Faces that oscillated between light and shadow.

And then he felt pain in his chest, a pain that made everything go white, that made him forget who he was and how he had gotten here, leaving only the fear of death.

Because of the pain, the instant became incredibly long. But still it was only an instant.

Before she knew it, it was all over.

He was looking at Adam... Yes, looking at him from the outside, from above. As if his spirit had finally left his body. In more ways than one. That is, Adam didn't look very much alive.

He was floating on a piece of wood, drifting.

Pale, except for the blood stains on his cheeks, that was the only thing that gave his face color. Maybe that's why he had a strange perspective on this moment. It wasn't exactly a memory since Adam had been dead. But... did the body remember, anyway?

In any case, as he had hoped, Adam had been betrayed. His hopes and dreams had burned. Everything he had worked for had come crashing down on top of his head.

But he couldn't be satisfied with this, anyway.

It had been too fast.

Not in reality, but there was no point if he couldn't see it!

This was coming to an end. Jonathan felt like they had reached the end of the line. He felt as if his soul was being....

Dragged away.

He opened his eyes, suddenly, his heart hammering. Elizabeth was on top of him, on her knees, tense. Her eyes were wide open. His awakening had alarmed her. Naturally.

"Finally."

"How long...?"

"I don't know. How should I know? But too much for my taste. Come on, let's get out of here."

She helped him up.

Too much... maybe so.

It couldn't have been that long... It didn't matter how long, after all, he had lived his whole life in his own body. However, he had the feeling that nothing was in the right place. As if his own was the body of a stranger.

He felt a chill.

Jonathan followed Elizabeth, retracing the path, but he couldn't help thinking why, had he really come this far just for this? He didn't understand how it was possible, but he had seen the Count's past? Adam's. Right.

But what had he seen, after all?

That, long ago, he had been a different person.

That, long ago, he had died and been reborn on the island as him, something he had already assumed.

So what? What good was all that to him?

Had he really gone through so much just for that sword? Were the memories he had accessed after touching the stone really useless? He would have told himself that he had simply left prematurely, that there just wasn't all there was to see. But he knew. He knew he had finished, not been cut off.

It didn't make sense.

None of it made sense. But one had to face the facts.

So... this had been pointless?

No. No. Not at all.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, helping him walk and allowing him to lean on her.

"I'll be fine. The important thing is that I've seen things. And they weren't my imagination."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"It's a long story, but...." He had realized something important, something that should have occurred to him from the beginning, that only surprise and frustration had prevented him from seeing, in fact. "These are things the Count wouldn't want anyone to know."

"For example?"

"For example, the humanity he lost thousands of years ago, I saw how he died and became like me. For example... His real name. His name is Adam."

"I don't see what this has to do with defeating the Count. But okay, I believe you. Still... You're telling me we've been through all this nightmarish bullshit because of something you more or less already knew and a name?"

Jonathan shook his head. He understood how she felt. Up until literally seconds ago, fuck, he'd felt the same way. But now he was thinking about things differently. But now he was smiling. From ear to ear.

"I can't wait to look him in the eye and say his name. I want him to know... that I saw him at his lowest moment. That he thinks he's a big deal, but he's one of us filthy humans too."

Episode 22: END